


don't wanna walk alone

by melodrama4ever



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Post-Canon, Wholesome Twinyards, here this is, i finished my seventh reread like a week ago and i finally like aaron so., i know ten percent is a lot for them but bear with me here, kind of works with the extra content if you ignore the wrong parts of the extra content, renee and allison are also married in this but its not mentioned but just know that its there, the foxes are mentioned and also neil and allison are best friends because i said so, they get married for like ninety percent legal benefits and ten percent emotion, twinyards, very brief allusion to andrews past and a few mentions of neils life on the run
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-05-29
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:27:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24435847
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melodrama4ever/pseuds/melodrama4ever
Summary: Neil looked towards the sound of his voice. Andrew had pulled up a chair right next to Neil’s bed and was sitting in it, arms crossed and visibly bored. The sight of him was enough to ease Neil’s nerves into a manageable state. He didn’t have to run, he remembered. He was okay. He was safe. He took in a deep breath. “Hi,” Neil said, voice still heavy with sleep. He received a blank stare in response. Neil looked around the room; there was a discarded pile of his blood-stained clothes in a bag in the corner and a few empty bottles of chocolate milk on the table next to Andrew. “How long?”“A day and a half.”Neil flinched at that; he didn’t like being unconscious for so long. But Andrew seemed calm, so Neil supposed that the doctor had already told him that Neil would be fine. He looked at his thigh, which was wrapped in gauze, and then his hand, which was covered in an ace bandage. He ran through his memory, trying to put the pieces together.He must’ve looked confused, because Andrew answered his questions before he got the chance to ask them. “You were stabbed,” he informed Neil.Right. He was stabbed.
Relationships: Aaron Minyard & Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day & Andrew Minyard, Kevin Day & Neil Josten, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard
Comments: 13
Kudos: 292





	don't wanna walk alone

**Author's Note:**

> title taken from let's get married by bleachers
> 
> find me on tumblr at bogbodygal!

Neil woke up to the hum of fluorescent lights and the beeping of a vital signs monitor. It took his brain a few seconds to re-adjust to consciousness. When it did, he realized where he was: a hospital room. The panic that gripped him was a familiar sensation; it was an all-encompassing need to run. He had to leave, and he had to leave before whoever attacked him caught up with him. Neil, as he was phasing back into reality, began his hospital routine. Eyes still closed, he surveyed the damage: there was a dull ache in his right thigh and a throbbing pain in his left hand. They weren’t awful, he noted, but the pain was definitely subdued by medication. He could feel an IV in his left arm and immediately moved to pull it out; he wasn’t planning on staying here for much longer, and pain meds would make him sloppy in his escape. 

“Don’t.” Andrew spoke before Neil had the chance to remove anything. “I do not know why you are so keen on making things harder for yourself.”

Neil looked towards the sound of his voice. Andrew had pulled up a chair right next to Neil’s bed and was sitting in it, arms crossed and visibly bored. The sight of him was enough to ease Neil’s nerves into a manageable state. He didn’t have to run, he remembered. He was okay. He was safe. He took in a deep breath. “Hi,” Neil said, voice still heavy with sleep. He received a blank stare in response. Neil looked around the room; there was a discarded pile of his blood-stained clothes in a bag in the corner and a few empty bottles of chocolate milk on the table next to Andrew. “How long?”

“A day and a half.”

Neil flinched at that; he didn’t like being unconscious for so long. But Andrew seemed calm, so Neil supposed that the doctor had already told him that Neil would be fine. He looked at his thigh, which was wrapped in gauze, and then his hand, which was covered in an ace bandage. He ran through his memory, trying to put the pieces together. 

He must’ve looked confused, because Andrew answered his questions before he got the chance to ask them. “You were stabbed,” he informed Neil.

Right. He was stabbed. A hazy memory came back to him: he and Andrew were walking back to their hotel. They had just landed in Chicago a few hours earlier for an away game. The Chicago Eagles had been nice enough to let the Denver Bears practice in their stadium during the morning hours. It was a nice enough day and the stadium was close enough to the hotel, so they walked there, which meant they also had to walk back. Practice went well and everyone left with cautious optimism regarding the game that night-- the Eagles were one of the best teams in the nation, but they were only a couple of spots above the Bears. The Bears were riding a strong start to the season and played a lot more confidently than they had last spring-- that night was truly anyone’s game. Besides, it was early enough in the season that no one was stressed about rankings yet (besides Kevin, who was perpetually stressed about rankings. Neil had learned to tune him out a long time ago). The first few games were generally seen as fun warm-ups. 

They left the stadium and stopped at a cafe halfway between the arena and the hotel. It was some coffee chain with a French name that neither of them really cared enough to remember. Andrew knew that he liked their double mocha latte and Neil just went where Andrew did. Neil remembered opening the door to leave, saying something about one of Chicago’s starting backliners, and being attacked as soon as he stepped foot outside. The man had jumped at him and swung wildly; Neil hadn’t seen the knife until it was buried in his leg. He recalled punching the guy, but his memory went blank after that. 

He turned to Andrew and asked, “You brought me to a hospital?” It was no secret that Neil hated hospitals. He’d rather the team physician deal with it than an emergency room.

“I did not do shit,” Andrew answered. “Getting stabbed in public tends to draw a crowd.” Neil looked at him quizzically, and Andrew rolled his eyes. “Someone called an ambulance, and I did not have the power to refuse it on your behalf.” Andrew looked calm, as always, but Neil could hear an edge of anger in his voice.

“Oh,” Neil said. Only immediate family members could make decisions like that, and even though they lived together, Neil and Andrew weren’t legally married. He didn’t think that either of them had even thought about it before. What they had was enough for both of them; they didn’t need to get the government involved to make it official. He let the matter drop.

Andrew told him that there wouldn’t be any lasting damage because the knife was small and didn’t hit anything important. “He stabbed me in the  _ thigh _ ?” Neil said. “That doesn’t sound like he was trying to kill me.”

“He was a drunk Ravens fan that still held a grudge against you,” Andrew told him. “I do not think he had much experience in fights.”

Neil hummed. “What happened to him?”

Andrew didn’t bother looking up from his phone. “One of us remembered how to punch someone without breaking their own fucking thumb.” A quick glance to Andrew’s hand solidified that story: his knuckles were slightly bruised. Neil didn’t even try to hide a small smile.

-

Neil drifted off to sleep and woke up to a nurse opening the door to his room. She told them that he would most likely be good to go tomorrow, and that he should stay off of his leg for at least a week. His hand was fine, she said, but it would hurt for a while. He could live with that. The team physician would reevaluate him next week; the nurse said that the hospital was already in contact with him.

Neil asked Andrew about the game they missed: the Bears won, even without them, but it was a tight margin. 

“You could’ve played,” Neil told him. 

Andrew just looked at him. “I know.”

-

After the nurse came in a second time (this time to change his bandages), Neil had a thought. “Hey,” he said. Andrew briefly glanced up at him; a sign that Neil had his attention. “If you couldn’t say anything about the ambulance, then why did they let you in the hospital room?” Non-family members usually had to remain in the waiting room. Unless they were the FBI, Neil thought bitterly. Then they could just bother him regardless of familial status. “I’m not complaining. Just curious.”

“They didn’t,” Andrew responded. At the look Neil gave him, he continued. “This is Aaron’s hospital. I called him.”

That shouldn’t have surprised Neil as much as it did. He hadn’t exactly forgotten that Aaron worked in Chicago; the fact just didn’t occur to him until right now. When they were flying out, his focus was mostly on the game. He really only thought of Aaron when the twins Skyped once a month or got together for major holidays. 

“Oh. Cool,” he said, because Andrew’s relationship with his brother wasn’t a topic that Neil wanted to breach while hopped-up on pain meds. He registered that this was one of a very small number of times that he managed to keep his mouth shut, and drifted back to sleep. 

-

When the hospital discharged him the following morning, they also cleared him for a flight back to Denver that afternoon. The nurse sent him on his way with detailed instructions on how to care for his wound and wishes of luck for the upcoming season. Her son was a big Exy fan, she said. Neil was just glad that she had the good graces to not ask for an autograph from the man she just treated for a stab wound.

In the elevator down to the hospital lobby, Neil asked Andrew, “Do you want to say goodbye to Aaron?”

“No.”

“Does he want to say goodbye to you?”

Andrew sighed. “Yes.” The elevator doors opened on to a floor that definitely was not the lobby, and Andrew got off. Neil followed him.

There was a sign by the staircase that read  _ NEUROLOGY WARD.  _ Andrew walked past it, scanning the doors for a specific room number. Neil assumed he found the right one when Andrew stopped and pushed the door open.

Aaron Minyard looked just like his twin brother. Neil guessed that he got stopped and confused for Andrew almost as much as Andrew got stopped and asked for an autograph (which wasn’t too often; most people had the good sense to avoid Andrew if they saw him in public). If you knew both of them, though, it wasn’t hard to tell the two apart. Andrew always wore his signature arm bands. Aaron’s hair was a little longer and a little straighter. The brothers carried themselves differently, as well; Andrew gave off a very clear “do not fuck with me” vibe, and Aaron had shed his years ago.

As it was, Aaron was standing across the room, studying some papers on a clipboard and looking very much like a doctor. He hadn’t noticed them come in. 

Andrew strode across the room, waited a few seconds for Aaron to notice him, and then spoke. “Aaron.”

Aaron looked up. “Oh,” he spoke. “Hi.”

“We’re leaving.”

There were a few seconds of silence. “Have a, um, good trip back home.”

“Thanks,” Andrew said, more of a statement than a declaration of gratitude. “And thank you for-”

Aaron didn’t let him finish. “Yeah, no, of course. It’s all good.” He looked at Neil. “How are you doing, by the way?”

Neil fought off the urge to tell him that he was fine, although he truly was. The Foxes had always hated when Neil told them that he was fine, and Aaron, although he was Aaron, was still a Fox. “I’ve been better,” he admitted. “But I’ll be okay.”

“Good,” Aaron said. He waited a few beats. “Katelyn says hi. She says she’s excited to see you guys for Thanksgiving.”

Neil looked at Andrew, who just replied, “Yeah.” They stood in silence for a few more moments before Andrew turned and made his way out the door. 

Neil caught up with him. “That went well.”

“Shut up.” Andrew led him down the hallway towards the elevator.

“I’m glad you two talked,” Neil persisted.

“I am going to kill you and leave you in Chicago to rot.”

“Sure,” Neil agreed. Neil genuinely was glad that the twins had talked. They weren’t fully healed, any they may never be, but they were leagues from where they were during their sophomore year of college when Neil had begun his crusade to fix the two. Their weekly therapy sessions had stopped after their graduation, but their communication didn’t. Neil noticed that they sometimes sent each other articles; Andrew would send Aaron some fluff piece about a baby koala being born in some zoo, and Aaron would send Andrew a paper on recent astronomical breakthroughs. 

Andrew even sort-of accepted that Katelyn was his brother’s wife. After Andrew threatened Katelyn in the library that day, he stopped acknowledging her existence. Then, on the Thanksgiving after Neil’s last year at Palmetto, he answered a question she asked him. 

_ “How are you liking professional Exy so far?” she had asked. He responded with a, “I’m not,” and startled the three of them into silence. Katelyn and Aaron shared a long look, and then Katelyn looked at Neil. He raised an eyebrow. “I’m sorry to hear that,” she said, and kept talking. _

Neil wouldn’t say that Andrew and Katelyn were friends, or anywhere close to it, but he had stopped hating her long enough to acknowledge her, and that worked for everyone involved.

“What’s the percentage up to?” Neil asked.

Andrew pressed the elevator button. “Too high to count.”

-

They landed in Denver late that night. Neil had had time to respond to the flurry of wellbeing checks from his teammates and friends in the airport. 

Allison had sent an article titled “Sports Star STABBED Outside Chicago Cafe” with the caption  _ hes a fucking knife magnet  _ to the Fox groupchat. That prompted Nicky and Matt to flood the chat with  _ omg are u okay  _ and _ neil wtf respond. _ Kevin chimed in with a predictable quip about Neil’s season, Dan sent a crying emoji, and Renee had assured everyone that Neil was probably fine. Andrew sent,  _ he is, _ and the Foxes sent positive emojis in response. The only one who hadn’t participated was Aaron, likely because he knew Neil was okay and because Aaron only rarely sent texts in their group chat. Neil typed out a “:)” and ignored the mass of reaction texts in favor of watching Andrew read a book.

“Staring,” Andrew had said.

“Yup,” Neil had responded.

They opened the door to their apartment and found Sir and King curled up next to each other on the couch. Andrew let their luggage drop to the floor with a heavy  _ thump, _ and the cats stirred. King only lifted his head to investigate the noise, but Sir jumped off of the couch to wind himself around Neil’s ankles. “Wow,” Neil commented. “He has a favorite.”

“He knows that you were being stupid again,” Andrew replied. 

Neil hummed in agreement. He looked around the apartment that he and Andrew owned and took it all in. He saw the fantasy books that Andrew would never admit to enjoying scattered across the coffee table, last year’s championship trophy displayed proudly on the windowsill (just one; Andrew’s was tucked away in storage), a picture of Nicky and Erik tacked to the fridge that neither of them put there but neither of them took down, either. He thought about waking up in the hospital yesterday and feeling the overwhelming urge to run-- an urge he hadn’t felt in years. He looked at Andrew staring at the cat trying to claw its way up his leg and thought:  _ this is home.  _

Andrew noticed the attention, as he always did. He shifted so that their faces were almost touching and asked, “Yes or no?”

Neil said, “Yes,” and closed the gap to kiss him. 

-

The next morning, Neil still went on his daily run; he only ran for a grand total of three minutes before the pain in his leg took over and he was forced to slow to a walk. But he still walked, because he had a destination that morning and the keys to the Maserati sat forgotten on his and Andrew’s nightstand. When he returned, Andrew was still asleep. Neil could get in and out of bed without waking Andrew now; just a couple of years ago, Andrew would wake with every shift and movement. 

Neil showered, made breakfast, and looked through his Twitter timeline. He sent Allison a Tweet he liked. He enjoyed a lazy morning, unbroken by practice, for the first time since the off-season. Neil almost forgot to text Kevin and ask him for a favor.

Andrew woke up eventually. He took over the kitchen and made breakfast for himself (which was just lunch to Neil); it was far better than what Neil had made for himself that morning. Neil had only learned the very basics of cooking: how to make raw food edible, basically. He didn’t really need much else to survive. Andrew, however, preferred to actually taste his food; as a result, he was the chef of the house-- and he was good at it. Neil always enjoyed what Andrew cooked, even if some of it would give the team nutritionist (and Kevin) an aneurysm. 

They were cleaning up, washing dishes side-by-side, when Neil spoke up. “I have a question.”

Andrew looked at him and raised an eyebrow.

“Marry me. Yes or no?” Neil asked. He had stopped what he was doing to look to Andrew. 

Andrew blinked once, twice, and then said, “Yes.” He resumed rinsing the cup in his hand.

Neil gave a small, triumphant smile. “Cool.”

Ten minutes later, they were in the car, on their way to the courthouse. In the passenger seat, Neil piped up. “Kevin’s meeting us there,” he said. “We have to have a witness and Kevin was already in town for the weekend. I was gonna see him today, anyways.” 

“I don’t know why you’d want to,” Andrew said, but there was no bite to it.

Neil laughed. He sat there for a few minutes, hesitating, before pulling out two rings. “If you want,” he said. “I got them on my run this morning. There was a surprising number of jewelry stores open at six A.M. around here.”

Andrew held out his hand and Neil dropped a ring into his palm. At a red light, he wordlessly slipped it on. “If it doesn’t fit, we can get another one,” Neil offered. “I just got two of what fit me.” 

Andrew looked at him. “Neil. It fits.” 

Neil knew that that exchange was as close to an admission of excitement that either of them were going to get. He put his own ring on and distracted himself by turning the band back and forth until the car stopped. 

When they arrived at the courthouse, Kevin was already sitting on the steps in front of it. As Neil and Andrew approached him, he looked up. “Why now?” he asked in lieu of a greeting. 

Neil spoke first. “The hospital gave Andrew a hard time when he tried to come into my room. The only reason he could get in was because it was Aaron’s hospital, and Aaron made good on a few favors.” Next to him, Andrew simply shrugged. 

Kevin closed his eyes and sighed. “Of course,” he said. “Well, congrats anyways, I guess.” Neil and Andrew just stared at him, so he turned around and led them into the courthouse. “Alright, let’s just do it, then,” he called from a few paces in front of them.

-

After they were officially married, Kevin went back to the apartment with them. They brought out drinks and Andrew opened one of their nicer bottles of scotch. No one outright said that they were celebrating; if asked, Neil was sure that all three of them would’ve denied it. They talked, and Neil and Kevin managed to keep the conversation topic off of Exy entirely. Instead, they discussed their lives; Kevin told them about Thea and some history book he was reading, and they let him. He crashed on the couch when they realized when it was too late to warrant calling an Uber. 

Neil looked around, again, at the apartment that he and Andrew had made a home. The cats, the books, the pictures, the trophies, and now the rings. He smiled.  _ Home,  _ he thought again. A home he thought he was never going to be allowed to have. A home, a life, a future,  _ a husband.  _ Neil thought about himself, age eighteen, arriving at the Foxhole Court expecting to be dead and gone by that May. That Neil Josten was a lie; it was an alias he’d invented for survival. This Neil Josten, he thought, had everything that the younger one never expected to have.  _ Home.  _

( _ And if Neil was a sappy drunk and voiced all this to Andrew while they were getting ready for bed-- they wouldn’t talk about it, but they’d remember.) _

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> some things to note: 1. this is my first fic since the sixth grade 2. i already have a sequel of sorts to this planned 3. this is my first post on ao3 and it was only proofread at 1am by my angelic best friend who hasnt read the series, so if you see anything (like grammar mistakes or u think think there were character issues) please let me know! also if u liked it please leave kudos because i thrive off of validation


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